


I Wish I Could See an Angel

by TheFandomLesbian



Series: The Blind Supreme AU [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, Cute, F/F, Fluff, No Smut, One Shot, Romance, foxxay - Freeform, goode-day, raulson - Freeform, sequel to My Light is Coming Home, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 15:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17368598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian
Summary: After sacrificing her vision to revive Misty, Cordelia struggles to adapt to permanent life with her blindness. When she falls down the stairs too many times for comfort, Misty confines her to the ground floor of the academy until the coven finds a better aid for her disability.





	I Wish I Could See an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request for more Foxxay. (You couldn't have been more vague, so I decided to expand on this idea at the request of some other people.)

“ Oh how I wish I could see an angel  
Deliver me from this dark despair  
I've got a sweet lot of plans that have come to nothing  
And a life that's in need of a good repair." -Fleetwood Mac, "Angel"

...

Lying at the base of the stairs, totally winded, Cordelia pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Shit.” Pain stabbed through her right wrist. “Oh, shit--okay.” She gingerly lifted up her injured arm and fumbled around on the hard floor, hoping to find her cane.  _ My cane? Did I have my cane?  _ She couldn’t remember. She didn’t remember how she had gotten here, actually.  _ It’s okay. I can make it without my cane. _ She rolled onto her knees. Her ankle jostled. “Ow, ow, ow.”  _ I’m not going anywhere fast.  _ Leaning back against the bottom stair, she tilted her head back, wondering if anyone would hear her if she called for help.  _ It’s the middle of the night.  _

Fortunately, though, a door upstairs creaked open almost immediately. “Help!” She tilted her head back. “Help!” 

“Cordelia?” Misty’s voice rattled Cordelia to her core. The familiar footsteps pounded down the stairs with such ease, it filled Cordelia with envy. “Oh, no, not again.” A hot blush flushed all over Cordelia’s face. How had she become this way? Blind and helpless so she couldn’t even reach the bathroom without an aid? Tender arms swept her up into their embrace. She hissed in pain at the way her broken bones rattled. “What’s hurt this time?” 

_ Nothing, _ she wanted to say, but she knew Misty would see through the lie like a glass window. “My wrist--and my ankle.” Misty tucked her hair behind her ears with a soft sigh, caressing her cheek with the utmost gentleness and love. Cordelia’s eyes burned.  _ I don’t deserve this.  _ “I’m sorry. It’s the second time this month--”

“It’s the second time this  _ week _ , Cordelia.” Misty grabbed onto her and wrapped her up into a tight embrace. “Hold onto me. Don’t try to stand up--you’ll hurt yourself.” Cordelia obeyed Misty, biting back the urge to snap at Misty. It wasn’t Misty’s fault she couldn’t stay on her feet like a normal person. “Where’s your cane?” 

Cordelia’s face bumped against Misty’s chest. “I don’t think I brought it with me.” 

To her credit, Misty didn’t become outraged. “Why not?” 

“I was just going to the bathroom.”

“How’d you wind up outside the bedroom?” 

“I don’t know.” Misty settled onto the couch, and Cordelia stretched out across her lap, uncurling with a soft sigh. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. Misty shushed her and kissed her forehead. She felt silly and juvenile. Bowing her head against Misty’s shoulder, she waited as Misty took her broken wrist between her hands; she bit her lower lip to keep from making any sound of pain. Misty spoke the soft incantation to mend her broken bones--she had said it so many times by now that she had memorized it. Cordelia hissed with pain as the bones knitted back together. “Thank you…” 

Misty nuzzled into her hair as she reached for her ankle. She took her limb with a muted sound pushing out between her lips, and then she repeated the incantation. Cordelia winced again. “Is that all?” Misty asked. She took Cordelia’s sweaty palm and placed it against her own cheek. 

On reflex, her hand roamed the planes of Misty’s face, positively identifying her. “Yes, that’s all.” She sat up and kissed Misty on the mouth. Misty’s timid smile answered her, but there were tight, nervous lines around her lips which betrayed her anxiety. “I’m okay,” Cordelia promised. “Don’t worry about me… I’m okay.” She pecked another, second kiss onto Misty’s lips, trying to cheer her up. “Let’s go back to bed and get some sleep.”

“Let’s sleep here tonight.” 

Cordelia hesitated at Misty’s objection. Misty had never refused to take her back to bed before. “What’s wrong?” she pressed, trying to disturb Misty from her silent reverie. “What’s wrong with going back to bed?” 

Strong arms wrapped her up into an embrace. “I hate seeing you get hurt.” 

“I’m not hurt. I’m all better now.” 

“You’re bruised all over. The bruises from the last time aren’t even gone yet--and the ones from the time before that just disappeared yesterday.” Cordelia set her jaw. She didn’t have a good objection to Misty’s words; she spoke the truth. Misty nuzzled into her hair. “I just want you to be safe. What if it didn’t wake me up? How long would you have been there?” 

Cordelia closed her eyes. It didn’t make a difference. “I’m  _ fine, _ Misty. You found me. I’m safe.” She reached up to touch Misty’s face, but she missed and grabbed a handful of her hair instead. “Let’s go back to bed. You’re just tired.” 

Shaking her head into Cordelia’s palm, Misty refused again. “I’m tired of picking you up from the bottom of these stairs,” she whispered. “I can’t stand to see you hurt… I think we should stay down here until we think of something safer for you.” Cordelia’s face fell. She was the  _ Supreme. _ She couldn’t lose access to half of her house! “Just for a little while--until we find something safer! So you don’t have to keep hurting. I’ll stay with you!” 

Misty’s voice was thick with tears. Cordelia wanted to protest, but she didn’t have the heart to hurt Misty more than she already had. “Misty… What do you suppose we do? I can’t stay down here forever.”

“I don’t know. We’ll find something. We’ll think of something.” 

A soft blanket wrapped around them, and Cordelia didn’t have the heart to resist. Misty kissed her cheek. “We can’t have sex down here.”

“Is that really what you want right now?” 

“Well, not  _ right now, _ but at some point in the future--”

“We’ll figure something out,” Misty said again. She hugged Cordelia tightly from behind and peppered a string of kisses down her neck. “I’ll protect you.” Misty had taken great strides to protect Cordelia.  _ I’m the Supreme. I’m supposed to protect her.  _ “Cross my heart and hope to die.” 

Cordelia pressed tender lips to Misty’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

They spent the following days sleeping on the couch, splitting the small area between their two bodies. Misty brought all of their clothes downstairs in suitcases, and she worked on clearing out the spare room for them to move into temporarily. It took her almost two weeks to get the old boxes out of the room and make it livable for the two of them, and in that time period nothing changed to make the stairs safer. No one had any ideas. 

It seemed Cordelia was doomed to a life trapped on the first floor. 

She didn’t try to take the stairs again. Misty, Queenie, and Zoe covered all of the bases on keeping the girls upstairs in check. She was safer on the ground floor. Even there she had accidents--but she didn’t have nearly as far to fall. Misty brewed a bruise-healing paste in the greenhouse and rubbed it all of her injured spots every night before they went to bed.

In the summer, the stuffy back room got hot--it had no window for the room to air out. Misty stripped the blankets off of their bed, and when that wasn’t enough to make her stop sweating, Cordelia awoke one morning to find her sprawled out on the cold tile floor, just trying to cool herself off. “You can stay upstairs,” Cordelia said as she rubbed her eyes with her fists. “I don’t mind the heat.” It was sweltering, but Misty refused to leave her alone, and she knew better than to try and convince Misty to let her go back upstairs. 

Meanwhile, they all spent time trying to decide what to do with the stairs. Queenie crossed her arms. “Let’s level ‘em and replace ‘em with a ramp.” 

“Why? Fewer bounces when she falls down?” Zoe asked in a snipped voice. “She’s blind, not wheelchair bound.” 

“Alright, what about a lift chair?” Queenie asked.

Misty shook her head. “She could fall while trying to get into it, or trip over it.”

Zoe suggested, “Okay, hear me out. Magical elevator.” 

“You’re not putting my girlfriend in one of those death boxes.” 

Queenie snorted. “Death boxes. It’s only one story. Even if something did happen, she probably wouldn’t be hurt. We’re not in the Washington monument.” 

“Uh-uh.” 

Cordelia pretended she couldn’t hear them. 

During the hottest days of summer, Misty finally broke down and set up two fans in the bedroom. She still sweated, even as Cordelia wrapped herself up in sheets to avoid the breeze. 

Just as the first autumn leaves began to crisp and brown, Cordelia heard an unfamiliar voice from the lobby, entering the house with Zoe and Queenie, but before she could pay attention to it, Misty’s voice interrupted. “Oh my god, a  _ puppy?  _ You brought me a puppy?” 

“She’s not for you. She’s for Cordelia!”

“She! I love her!” 

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. Unable to restrain herself, she tapped out of the kitchen. “I heard the word dog.”

“Cordelia! They brought us a dog!” 

She smiled, and Misty took her hand and dragged her into the room, but she still didn’t hear or smell anything indicating the presence of a dog. “Who got Misty a dog?” 

Zoe and Queenie both sighed. The third, unfamiliar voice cleared her throat. “Cordelia Goode? I’m Sasha Cornell. I work for WAGS of Louisiana--Working Animal Guide Society.” Cordelia extended a hand in spite of the confusion pursing upon her lips, and the woman shook her hand. “And my friend, here, is named April.” Cordelia dropped her hand. A cold nose sniffed at its back. “Your family was approved for ownership for a seeing eye dog.” 

Cordelia’s eyes widened. Misty took her hand and gave it a squeeze, but confusion bled off of her--she wasn’t behind the mysterious appearance of this woman and her dog. “Who did this?” 

“If I have to listen to Misty complain about the damn stairs one more time,” Queenie said, “I’m going to lose my mind. Hopefully this will clear it right up.” She said it in a blase way, but Misty still flung her arms around her in a big hug, no matter how Queenie tried to brush her off with a stern, “Flower child.” 

Cordelia smiled. “Thank you, Queenie.” Blinking in the direction of Sasha, she said, “And thank  _ you. _ Where--What do we do from here?” 

“We have a month-long training course that starts tomorrow,” Sasha said. “And from there, if April is a good fit for you, she’ll be yours.” She brushed something cold and metallic against Cordelia’s hand. Cordelia accepted it--the handle to the dog’s harness. “If you’d like to come with me?” Cordelia held her cane in her other hand, nodding in agreement. “Why don’t you show me around your house? April will help you.”

Clearing her throat, Cordelia nodded her agreement. “Of course.” She began to walk forward, and the dog took the lead, pulling along with her. It was a strange sensation, like being led on Misty’s arm, yet somehow different. More independent and free. 

“April, forward.” With the command, the dog moved more confidently. “April knows all of the directional commands. You’ll learn them at training.” 

“That sounds wonderful.” Cordelia moved through the house confidently--she knew the bottom floor like the back of her hand, and she committed the commands to memory as Sasha repeated them aloud to her. The dog was obedient. When she came to a stool that had been left out in the middle of the kitchen floor, April led her around it. 

“Will you take me upstairs?” 

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. “I… Yes, of course.”  _ It’s been months. _ But she found the mouth of the stairs like the cave leading her into hell; she had avoided them like the plague. 

“Forward up,” Sasha said to April, and the dog began to climb the stairs, and Cordelia followed alongside her, holding tightly onto her harness to keep from stumbling. She took the steps slowly, one at a time, until she reached the top of the staircase. 

Queenie and Zoe and Misty all cheered from far below. They applauded. It rushed to Cordelia’s head like a drug. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be high. “Been awhile?” Sasha asked. 

“You--You could say that.” 

“Not anymore.” 

Much later that night, for the first time in months, Cordelia climbed into  _ their _ bed, upstairs. Misty sat by the open window. “You really didn’t know?” she asked Misty as her fingers trailed over the Braille book on dog training Sasha had left them. “Nothing? She didn’t tell you anything?” 

Misty inhaled the crisp night air. “No. Queenie didn’t tell me anything.” She left the window open and curled up beside Cordelia on the bed, scratching April behind the ears. The dog crawled up between them and licked Cordelia on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Cordelia closed the book and put it aside. With one hand, she absently toyed with the dog’s ears. “I love you, Misty.” 

“I love you. And our dog.”

“My dog.”

“Mine on weekends.”

“This isn’t split custody.” 

Misty laughed and kissed her. April licked her face, too, and Misty dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Okay. Your dog.” She touched Cordelia on her waist. “Because you’re mine, and that makes April mine by proxy.” 

Smiling, Cordelia nuzzled against Misty and gave her another warm kiss. “You’re driving me to training tomorrow, right?” 

“Of course. I want to see every minute.” 


End file.
